


Somewhere Between

by zetuslapetus



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Octavia knows,” he says. “She said we’re idiots and that she was with you when you bought the bra she found hanging in my bathroom the day after.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Between

The phone wakes her. It doesn’t ring, instead, it vibrates across the nightstand until she paws at it and picks it up. She peels one eye open and slides a finger across the screen without a second thought.

“Hello?” She mumbles into the mouthpiece fighting back a yawn.

There’s only silence, and as Clarke is about to open her mouth and demand whoever is on the other end go to hell - because its Saturday morning and the first weekend she’s had off in a month, a familiar voice speaks up.

“C-Clarke?”

Clarke’s eyes snap open and she quickly pulls the phone away from her ear. 

_Shit_. _Shit_. 

This isn’t her phone. Her stomach drops when the sudden realization that she’d left her phone charging on the kitchen counter washes over her. She internally curses Jasper for getting her hooked on a dumb game that’s been draining her battery all week long because she can’t get past the second level.

She’s still staring at the familiar name on the screen when she hears the person on the other end begin talking again. Clarke panics, her heart thrumming against her chest and she hangs up. She sits up and turns to the body next to her. Bellamy is spread out on his stomach, dead to the world. She slaps his bare shoulder and he startles awake with a groan. 

The phone vibrates again and Octavia’s name flashes across the screen.

Bellamy mumbles something into the pillow and turns his head towards Clarke. He stretches an arm out and pats the bed until his fingers brush against her hip bone and he slides his palm across her belly. 

“It’s Octavia,” Clarke says and Bellamy just grunts in response. 

She’s panicking - blood rushing, head pulsing panic. 

“Ignore her,” Bellamy says. He slips his arm around her middle and tugs her closer.

“We can’t ignore her, I just answered your phone on a Saturday morning.”

The phone stops flashing and then it dings once. _Voice Mail._

Clarke cringes, and before she can even pick it up off the bed, it begins vibrating, again.

“Christ,” Bellamy groans and reaches for it. “What?” He barks into the phone, eyes still closed.

They never meant to keep it a secret. Somewhere between a decade of friendship and coincidentally ending up in the same city after Clarke began her residency; it began as nothing more than the occasional late night screw, something to release the pressure of work for her, and the academy for him. Occasional visits turned weekly, and weekly turned into her leaving a spare phone charger around, and a sweater or two because he lived in an ice box. Somewhere between all of that, they figured out they had more things in common than just Octavia.

Clarke inches closer, she can hear Octavia talking but she can’t make anything out. Bellamy opens his mouth to say something, instead, a yawn escapes him. He doesn’t move or say a word, and after a few moments Clarke shoves him in the chest in case he’d fallen asleep.

His eyes fly open at that and he frowns at her. 

“I don’t have time for this, Octavia,” he rasps, “My shift ended four hours ago -“ he pauses. A couple more eye rolls and he hangs up, dropping the phone between their bodies and surrendering back into the pillow.

“Well?” Clarke bumps his chest again. He wraps his fingers around her wrists and pulls her back into the warmth of his chest.

“Octavia knows,” he says. “She said we’re idiots and that she was with you when you bought the bra she found hanging in my bathroom the day after.”

He shifts further into the sheets and buries his nose into her shoulder.

“She’s going to tell everyone,” Clarke whispers.

“At least we won’t have to,” he mumbles against her shoulder and after a few moments his breath slows and evens out.

There’s still a thrum of panic running through her body, but the warmth radiating from Bellamy against her side slowly calms her until she too gives into sleep, again.

 

 


End file.
